Small, warm holiday
by JestaAriadne
Summary: Latvia, Lithuania and Estonia have a celebratory picnic.


**Notes: **Set in the early 1990s, post-Independence.

…There's one phrase in here that I'm 110% sure is anachronistic but it just entertained me no end and I'm not taking it out.

* * *

><p>"…and basically I think it's time for a holiday!" Latvia concluded.<p>

"I know how you feel," said Lithuania. Latvia could picture him at the other end of the line pacing about his kitchen, wrapping the telephone cord around his fingers. Worrying about his 'little brothers' even now! "But we can't just take off, you know. Things to do, countries to organize — that's the point, isn't it?"

"_Yeah_, Lithuania, I _know_. I wasn't seriously planning on randomly ditching everyone for a couple weeks!"

"…What about an afternoon?"

"Huh? What about an afternoon?"

"I mean, we could probably take an afternoon off, right? The three of us maybe. Go for a picnic or something. I… I'd like that."

_I'd really like that too_, Latvia thought. "Will you do the food?" he said aloud.

"What about Sunday afternoon? And, yes, of course…"

"Yeah, I'm free!" Latvia paused. "Come to mine? If, if you want to. I just thought, if Estonia wanted to come too, it would be most convenient for both of—"

"We'll come," Lithuania interrupted. "Thank you for the invitation, Latvia."

"Oh," Latvia breathed in awed realisation. "Oh, yes. It's like I'm _inviting_ you, to come and visit me, in my house."

The smile was audible in Lithuania's voice. "It's exactly like that. I'll call Estonia."

* * *

><p>"I'M SO FULL," Latvia moaned, writhing on the ground. "Why did I eat that muuuch?"<p>

Lithuania rolled his eyes. "I don't know, why did you?"

"Because your cooking's _amazing_, Lithuania," he replied at once, "I didn't want any to go to waste…"

"That's flattering, but there are such things are leftovers!"

Estonia said wryly, picking at a pastry: "Yes, I suppose it's reassuring that your absurd over-catering isn't _only_ a reaction to stress…"

"Shush, you." Lithuania stuck his tongue out and flicked icing sugar at Estonia.

"Oh, good grief!" cried Estonia, flicking some back, "How old _are_ we?"

"OLD AS BALLS!" intoned Latvia.

"WHAT?"

"Where on earth did that come from?"

"It's a genuine phrase!" Latvia insisted. "I heard it somewhere; I don't know."

"Where… to even begin with that one." Lithuania shook his head. "Was it Poland?"

"Don't think so… What's wrong with Estonia?"

Estonia was having a near-silent attack of the giggles, which was so out of character that they both stared.

"Okay, okay, okay—" Estonia gasped after half a minute. "Imagine this — new declaration… and… _You have illegally annexed our territories, erased us from the history books, and pretend as if we never existed, BUT, we, the Baltic Nations are actually… OLD AS BALLS!_**"**

"That might have got us more immediate attention of _some_ kind," Lithuania giggled, and Latvia toppled over sideways, repeating "as balls!" to himself.

After they'd all calmed down, Latvia righted himself and said, apropos of nothing, "You're really tall, Estonia."

Estonia blinked. "I suppose. Anyway, compared to you, squirt,"

"Especially now you don't kind of stoop all the time like the ceilings are too low or like you don't want to stand out."

"Oh, thank you _very_ much, how tactfully put." Estonia pushed his glasses up his nose and looked accusingly at Lithuania. "What?"

Lithuania put his hands up. "I didn't say a thing!"

"You _looked_."

"I —? How did I ever put up with you two?" Lithuania said, without rancour. "In all seriousness, Estonia: your posture has improved a lot lately, well done."

It was such a ridiculous thing to be saying that they all laughed again, or maybe it was the relief.

"'Well done'? Thanks, _mother_,"

"I thought I was the big brother?"

Estonia said, "Whatever…" and lay down on the grass. Latvia bit his tongue on, "_I wish—"._

"_So_, little bros," began Lithuania, brightly.

"Please don't ever say that again," Estonia interrupted without sitting up.

"I won't. So… _you two_. How's tricks?"

"Fine," said Estonia.

"Pretty good!" said Latvia.

"Any advance on _extremely succinct_?"

Estonia shrugged. "You haven't said anything about yourself."

"I'm well…"

A bird in a nearby tree gave a particularly loud chirp.

"…Fair enough; no one has to share their feelings if they don't want to," Lithuania conceded with a smile.

Latvia chewed his lip and tried to unwind the knot of tension that had suddenly tied itself up in his belly. Then the bird sang again and called his attention outward to his surroundings. It was beautiful, and it was his. His home. And, if centuries of shared hardships didn't make you family in _some_ way then nothing did. He could tell them. It was alright.

Latvia took a deep breath of the free air, and said, "I'm scared. I don't want to say it because I'm really thrilled and everything — I _am_, but if I'm being honest I'm also scared. Because, I haven't been properly independent in _ages_. And that was a kind of weird couple decades anyway, let's be honest, and before that… seven-hundred years? What do… what do I do?"

Estonia had sat up again, looking intently in his direction.

Lithuania, nodding sympathetically, said simply: "You do amazingly, just like you always have."

Latvia felt a blush heating his cheeks. "That's not exactly specific though," he mumbled.

"No… Well I suppose there's a lot for us all to figure out. It _will_ be difficult —"

Latvia said quickly, "I know!" and Estonia murmured assent.

"—but… Look. Look at yourself. And listen. Your language, your poetry? Look at how you've held on to who you are _through_ those years. _Seven hundred_? Just imagine that! You too, Estonia. All of us."

"Our people are strong," Latvia said.

"Our people are strong," Lithuania agreed. "_We_ are strong."

They looked at Estonia. He shrugged.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked. "_Okay_, fine. Yes."

"We made it."

"Not yet we haven't," said Estonia sharply. "But, _yes_. Yes. I know what you mean. Cheer up, Latvia."

"I am cheery," Latvia grumbled.

"You're adorable."

"Shut _up_, Lithuania."

Lithuania, grinning, shut up. He brushed crumbs off his shirt and stretched. He looked in his element out-of-doors; Latvia had forgotten.

"Oh, this is nice, though," Lithuania said to no one in particular. "I almost feel like singing."

"…that was really something, wasn't it?" said Estonia quietly.

"Yeah!" said Latvia. "We stayed up all night!"

"We held hands…" Lithuania reached out for both of them.

Estonia let them be all three joined once more. "We fought on behalf of our children," he said.

Lithuania gave his hand a gentle squeeze in gratitude. "And our land, our lakes and rivers and forests."

"…we wrote poems in prison on toilet paper and bars of soap…"

Latvia felt his voice crack but his heart was still singing. My country. My home, my land, my people, my love, my home _my home my home_.

He lifted a hand to his face, and Lithuania's hand with it, and noticed the tears were falling fast.

"I'm happy, though," Latvia whispered to the sky, "I'm happy."

Lithuania kissed the top of his head. "So am I."

"You two are such idiots, crying," Estonia complained, and joined them.

* * *

><p><em>The burned is being burned,<em>  
><em>The buried is being buried.<em>  
><em>The courtyard is raked smooth,<em>  
><em>A piece of Latvia is tidied up again<em>  
><em>No shame that sky is looking.<em>

Jānis Baltvilks, English translation by Gundega Vaska

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong> Holding hands: Baltic Chain! Singing Revolution. From like the 70s(?) onwards, it was environmental issues and things that would affect children's health that protests (protests! that wasn't supposed to happen! in the Soviet Union!) often centred around and got bolder. Poems on bars of soap and toilet paper: I'm actually thinking of Irina Ratushinskaya, who's Russian. But poetry and poets were super important in Latvia and maintaining identity.

Generally, on the Baltic Way and co operation, and the whole are they/aren't they "brothers": _The Baltic Way was a phenomenon which showed how three small countries - the Baltic States, regardless of their unique individual national characteristics, created a cross-cultural spiritual synergy both internally and between the Baltic States in the name of a common goal - to overcome the consequences of World War II and to destroy the totalitarian regimes. The Baltic Way is a historic symbol that is alive in the collective memory, enriching the understanding of the sense and values of solidarity and freedom of expression._

Finally, have a listen to Peteris Vasks' setting of the poem ("Mazi, silti svētki" translated as either "Small warm holiday" or "A moment of celebration").


End file.
